Thank you for the lovely review. I was so pleased. :)

The Photo.

Charles and Elsie were already waiting beside the front door of Downton Abbey, a reasonable distance from the main entrance, of course. They no longer needed coats, the year was already too close to summer for that, and as it was very warm today, they stood in the shade of the bushes. Both were excited and had been looking forward to the last few days. The 12 weeks passed quickly, but the days were still long.

Elsie had bought a pretty dress for this day. She still regretted a little that she had thought before the wedding that it wasn't so important to her which dress she would wear. She wouldn't make that mistake again. So she borrowed Mrs. Patmore's catalogue and bought a pretty dress to be photographed in. It arrived three weeks ago. She would decide on the day of the photo whether she would wear it or not. But she had felt since the day before yesterday that she really wanted to wear the dress. Thank goodness she had made provisions this time.

As soon as they got to the cottage, she would change. The petrol of the fabric was so dark that it almost faded into black, and it was decorated with fine silver-grey embroidery on the shoulders and chest. She had tried it on once when Charles was at work. She felt amazing in it and was looking forward to showing it to Charles. She would be happy if he saw her in it. She had made sure that he didn't get to see the dress yet.
Elsie let out a dreamy breath.

„What are you thinking about?" Charles asked enamouredly as he saw his Elsie smiling to herself and snapped her out of her thoughts with his question. He watched her face as the sun and the shadows of the leaves danced on Elsie's face.

Elsie hunched her shoulders mischievously and her cheeks turned red. „Oh, nothing important. My dress."

Charles' heart skipped a beat. He knew she didn't want to show him the dress yet, she had told him it was to be a surprise. He was touched that the resolute, grown-up and stubborn housekeeper had such a soft and childlike core. The fact that she showed him this sensitive side almost turned Charles' knees to pudding. It showed him how much she trusted him and how much she loved him.

The sun was making Elsie's blue eyes sparkle today and Charles was almost drowning in them. They reminded him of a visit to the jeweller's a few weeks ago. He enjoyed seeing Elsie doing so well.
Jesus, how he loved this woman!

And because he loved her so much, he had bought a beautiful brooch for Elsie as soon as the appointment with the photographer had been fixed. As a surprise.

He had slightly underestimated buying a piece of jewellery for Elsie. When Charles stood in front of the jeweller's window, he even got a little nervous. There was so much beautiful and glittering jewellery, how was he supposed to find the right piece?

But when he spoke to the jeweller, who then brought out the most beautiful brooches from the display case, the choice was no longer so difficult for Charles. All the jewellery offered by the jeweller looked very pretty, of course. But he only recognised Elsie in one of them. Only one brooch was able to emphasise her character and beauty. He wanted this one. And he bought this one.

Charles would give her the brooch as soon as she came out of the bathroom in her new dress. He was looking forward to it and was even a little excited about it.

„The question is rather what you're thinking about! My daft man." Elsie was amused, as Charles stood there motionless and scrutinised her face wordlessly. She gave him a laugh.

„A penny for your thoughts." said Elsie and looked back towards the driveway.

A distant humming could be heard. Elsie was now so jittery that she brought Charles back to the present. She started to stick her nose up, just to get a better view of the driveway. But still, there was nothing to see, only to hear.

_C&E_

The photographer arrived a few moments later in his own car. As agreed, he arrived at 4 pm. Elsie and Charles had organised their schedules weeks ago so that they would have their half-day off together. However, they usually avoided this as they felt that at least one of them should be at Downton Abbey to keep an eye on everything. Besides, walking home together had become a nice habit for them that they didn't want to miss.

The car stopped in front of them. After the engine was switched off and the loud humming stopped, an older, short man came out who didn't have too much hair left on his head and the few he did have shone white.

The plump man approached the couple and said in a friendly manner: „Nice to meet you! The Carsons, I presume?"

Elsie looked up at Charles. As usual, she waited for Charles to speak. But Charles didn't speak. He seemed irritated.

„Yes, we are." Elsie took the initiative. Elsie glanced furtively up at Charles. What was going on?

„Very nice. May I ask you to get straight into my car?"

The picture maker turned round and went back to his car. Elsie squeezed Charles by the forearm and looked at him questioningly. Charles shook his head and walked to the car with Elsie. In the meantime, the photographer had opened the back doors on both sides. They got in.

He started the engine.
He started the engine again. Elsie and Charles looked at each other. Charles raised his eyebrows sceptically.
He tried again. Elsie bit her lower lip.
He tried again. But. The engine wouldn't start.

„I'm sorry, it seems we can't get out of here. Do you know a mechanic?"

Elsie looked at Charles and cocked her head a little to one side. Charles knew what she was implying with that look and shook his head negatively.

But Elsie didn't let Chales stop her and suggested: „A member of the Grantham family, Mr. Branson, knows a lot about cars. I imagine he'd be happy to help us out."

Charles snorted.

_C&E_

Mr. Branson arrived and greeted the photographer. He was happy to take a look at the car, but it would certainly take him some time to find out what was missing.

Mrs. Hughes was unobtrusively asked to take a few steps to the side by Mr. Branson before he went off to change into his work clothes.

„Do you know this man, Mrs. Hughes?", he asked with interest.

The housekeeper was surprised to hear this question. But she felt it was somehow justified.

„No, Mr. Branson. I've never seen him before." She didn't want to show her uncertainty and gave Mr. Branson a polite grin to finish.

„We'll probably have to take the photo here.", the photographer suggested.

„Here?" Elsie heard Charles" horrified exclamation and turned round to face the two of them.

„Yes, here. There are plenty of rooms here. We have a large selection."

Elsie recognised Charles' growing disappointment and horror. He had wanted Elsie to have a photo taken in her own home. In her dress. With his brooch.

„Which room do you suggest?", he asked the Carsons as he looked at the imposing walls and arched his back. The photographer didn't seem to be moved by Charles' echoes.

„Which room! Large selection!" The butler returned the words incredulously.

Elsie took her lower lip between her teeth and closed her eyes briefly, trying to stifle a burst of laughter. She knew that it would never be an option for Charles to be photographed in a family room. He found the very idea inappropriate. And Elsie didn't really like the idea either, but she tried to make the best of the circumstances. Elsie would most likely have had the photo taken in her sitting room or in Charles' pantry. Those were the rooms that represented they most honestly.

„I'd suggest we go to your office, Charles.", Elsie relented.

„But, Elsie! We wanted to go home ..."

„Yes, Charlie, I know. But I'm afraid it's not possible." Elsie tried to explain. „It's all right. You'll be in the photo and I will. Wasn't that what we wanted?"

There she was! This Elsie who could still find something good in every tricky situation. This Elsie who made the unattainable goal attainable by simply bypassing the blocked path.

He looked at his wife with bewilderment and raised eyebrows. It was all happening a little too quickly for Charles. The picture maker had to smile; he had almost expected this reaction from the butler. As if he knew him.

Charles turned round, he had to think for a moment. Elsie turned with him. He looked into her eyes and realised how much she would like to take the photo they had been waiting so long for. He closed his eyes, pressed his lips together and gave a slight nod. Elsie was relieved and thanked him by squeezing his forearm, smiling.

Charles turned back to the picture maker and asked him to follow him to the servants' entrance.

„Elsie?" Charles whispered secretly to Elsie, who was walking beside him. He kept his gaze straight ahead.

Elsie looked up.

„I know this man. I thought so on the phone when I made the appointment with him. Who is he?" He chose the volume of his words so that the photographer behind them couldn't hear them over the crunching of the gravel.

„Hmmmm. I don't know, Charlie." Elsie whispered back.

Elsie knew what Charles meant, as did Mr. Branson earlier, but kept it to herself. The man also evoked a familiar feeling in Elsie.

They stopped their whispering when they were just outside the door and stepped through. Elsie continued to wonder whether they might have met someone on their honeymoon and forgotten about it. But she couldn't think of anyone. Charles then escorted the photographer to his pantry. Meanwhile, the equipment remained in the car, waiting to be used.

_C&E_

Charles watched the man closely as he scrutinised his pantry. Every wall, every corner and every piece of furniture was scrutinised. He didn't seem satisfied, which caused the butler to let out a low hum from time to time that only his wife could hear. If the photographer went too far with his criticism in the eyes of the butler, Charles gave Elsie an eye roll. The forographer kept muttering unintelligibly.
The butler saw this afternoon's post lying on his desk. Mr Barrow should have handed it out long ago. Charles' last sense of patience seemed to have left his body.

Elsie wanted to lighten the mood a little and offered the guest a cup of tea. And a few biscuits, which would also be good for Charles' nerves.

The photographer gratefully accepted and continued to think about where he could place his camera and where he could put the couple.

Elsie nodded and started to leave, but was prevented from doing so by Charles - he stood in her way. His look was unmistakable: Let me go. I have to get out of here.

Elsie nodded again and watched the photographer with interest. She was still wondering how she knew the man. Now, close by and in the windowless room, she wondered about the familiar odour that emanated from him. But she couldn't tell what he smelled like. Elsie bit her lower lip, pondering. Very strange.

She wanted to see Charles and talk to him about the photographer and took the opportunity to talk to her husband in private.

Elsie apologised to the photographer for a moment and went into the kitchen.

But Mr. Carson was not here. According to the cook, once the tea was ready, he went into the dining room with the laden tray to fetch the biscuits from there. Mrs. Patmore directed her straight to the dining room.

_C&E_

Charles drew in his breath. He realised it. It happened again. His thumb pulled treacherously downwards. He tried to relax it by circling it, but he knew it wouldn't help. His hand began to stiffen.

The cup, saucer, jug, milk, spoon and plate of biscuits clattered against the tray with a promising clatter. Charles' hand trembled within seconds. He endeavoured to hold the tray as tightly as he could. But he realised that the trembling meant that his grip would no longer be able to hold the tray. He could see how he was losing his grip and slipping more and more out of his hand. He hurriedly turned round so that he could put the tray back down on the table.

Elsie witnessed this curious situation and hurriedly approached Charles. Reassuringly, she put a hand on his back as she passed and stood in front of him. She wanted to look into his face. Something was wrong.

Charles pushed Elsie to side so that he could reach the table quickly. But it was too late. The tray crashed to the floor with a thunderous clatter. Elsie found herself surrounded by hundreds of pieces of broken china, through which milk and tea made their way. The moving liquids reminded her of a river.

However, Elsie was less interested in the chaos at her feet than in her Charlie. She realised that he was struggling with himself. He stood there motionless. Of course he was grumpy that this had happened to him. But Elsie noticed something else in him. There was something strange, something frightening for Elsie in the way he looked at the shards. He rubbed his hand, his eyes fixed on the shards. Elsie remembered that Charles had reacted so strangely once before when it came to his hand. That had been during the soup spooning after his heart attack. But then she thought it was because of weakness. And then there was the strange allusion Charles made when he gave her the moon. Elsie stuck with Charles' choice of words, it gave Elsie butterflies every time she thought about it. She often remembered that magically beautiful evening. Nonetheless, for Elsie it all seemed to come together to form a great whole.

Mrs. Patmore came scolding with a bucket and broom, breaking Elsie from her observation. Charles also seemed to be back to himself.

To Mrs. Patmore's surprise, it wasn't a clumsy housemaid standing there, or even Mr. Molesley, but Mrs. Hughes. - Amid a pile of chaos. Charles looked at Elsie and disappeared without a word.

"Mrs. Patmore! So clumsy of me!" began the housekeeper. "Somehow the tablet slipped away."

"Oh yeah?" the cook said sarcastically, rolling her eyes audibly. "Well, if you're going to make a mess, then you make a mess properly."

"I'm sorry. Throw me a cloth and I'll pick up the pieces around me."

„Leave it alone. Hop on the table quickly. I'll get a wet mop and wipe everything aside and then pick up the broken pieces." The cook disappeared and trilled loudly through the corridors: „In the meantime, move the chairs to the side as best you can."

Elsie sat down and pushed the chairs away with her feet as instructed.

The photographer came into the room because he wanted to know what the noise was about. Fascinated by Elsie at the table, he stopped.

„That's it! That's the motif. That's how we do it!"

„What's going on here now?", asked Mrs. Patmore, distraught. Her eyes darted like a tennis ball from the picture maker to the housekeeper. „What are you looking at her like that for?"

„You on the table! It must be like that. Where's your husband? I'll quickly get my camera out of the car. Don't move!" The photographer hurried out of the room. „Don't move! Listen to me!"

„Now tell me why you're still here and not in your cottage by now? You should have been busy with the photo by now."

Mrs. Hughes briefly explained to the cook what had happened in the last 20 minutes. She watched from the table as Mrs. Patmore cleaned the floor and let her feet dangle a little. It was a feeling she hadn't felt for a very long time.

„Mr. Hughes, but tell me how I know the photographer! - I know I know him. But I just can't figure it out.", urged Mrs. Patmore as she emptied the last shards into the bucket.

Mrs. Patmore straightened up expectantly and moved her gaze from the clean floor to the housekeeper.

C _

As if pursued by bees, Mr. Carson returned to the dining room. However, it wasn't a swarm that appeared behind him, but the laden picture maker.

All it took was a quick glance at his wife's face and he knew immediately that she was determined to realise the photographer's idea.

„But don't ask me to laugh too.", he grumbled devotedly.

Elsie made all her gratitude visible with a broad smile.

_C&E_

Elsie sat at the end of the table, beaming with joy and looking cheerfully into the camera. Her legs were crossed at her ankles and she was resting her right hand on the back of a chair.

You could clearly see in her face how much fun she was having with this motif. She posed not only with a restrained smile, but with an honest, broad laugh, just as we were used to seeing from her in life. It was a laugh that showed her teeth. The picture would later scream: Look how happy I am!
It was new. It was exciting. It was full of character. It was Elsie. She felt proud. And was infinitely grateful to her husband for putting aside his rigid views for her sake.

Charles stood slightly away from Elsie, his hands in his trouser pockets. He had a mischievous expression on his face that said: „Look at her, my (!) wife, who is crazy enough to take a photo of herself sitting at the table, but who I am so madly in love with that she infects me with her energy every time."

He wasn't immediately on fire for this motif, but was so carried away by Elsie's joy that it was ultimately an honour for him to create the picture for his Elsie the way she wanted it. He fell in love with this woman all over again.

Charles also curled his lips into a smile, but that remained his secret for the time being. He wanted to surprise Elsie with it in the photo and therefore didn't tell her anything about it yet. Elsie would only find out when she held the photo in her hands. This thought made the motif even sweeter for him.

The picture was taken quickly. The photographer dismantled the camera and tripod and took it up to the car.

What remained was an overjoyed couple who would have loved to kiss here and now. But as they weren't at home, nothing came of it. As they didn't know how much longer the photographer would be here, they tried to shake off their burgeoning emotions as best they could. They couldn't go home for the day as long as their guest was stuck here.

So Mr. Carson made his way to the wine cellar and went through the wine list. A job that he didn't actually want to do until tomorrow.

Mrs. Hughes, meanwhile, went into the storeroom, which contained the house's huge linen cupboard, where bed linen, kitchen fabrics, cleaning cloths and sheets were stored. There she met Mr. Molesley, who was fetching linen cloths to clean the silver.

He asked curiously about the photograph and Mrs. Hughes happily told him how impatient she was for the result.

„I would be delighted if you would show me the photograph, Mrs. Hughes. I've never seen a colour photograph before.", said Mr. Molesley reverently.

„Oh, Mr. Molesley! I assure you the whole world will see it!" Elsie laughed out loud at her exaggerated words. She knew that she would not show the photo to the whole world, but to some of her fellow human beings.

„Do ou know what's strange, Mrs. Hughes?", asked Mr. Molesley absently.

Mrs. Hughes looked at him questioningly.

„I feel like I know the photographer. Ever since I bumped into him earlier, I've been thinking about how I could know him. But I can't think of anything."

She looked at him helplessly. Elsie made up her mind to talk to Charles about the photographer.

_C&E_

The photographer came rushing into Mr. Carson's office with relief. Charles had just returned from the cellar. The photographer told him that Mr Branson thought the car would be running again in a moment.

„I'll send you the photo by post as soon as it's ready.", he assured the butler. „I think it will be a marvellous picture!"

Charles looked at him and asked himself again how he knew the photographer. But he couldn't figure it out. „Thank you very much!"

„Goodbye!" With these words, the photographer left the pantry.

„Goodbye!"

_C&E_

Charles was looking for Elsie. Now that the photo had been taken and they were free, he wanted to grab her and head home. He wanted to see Elsie in her new dress. He grinned cheekily. And then take it off, of course.

She wasn't in her sitting room, so he went to the dining room. She wasn't there either. But there was something on the far end of the table that caught the butler's attention. It was a book. Mr. Carson walked over and picked it up, examining it. It was heavy and looked very used. There were lots of little notes sticking out of the pages.

It must belong to the photographer, Charles had never seen it here before. He opened the book cover. The name was clearly visible in the top left-hand corner. - Yes, it was the photographer's book.

He hadn't realised that a photographer had so many notes. He was curious and wanted to take a look inside. But when he heard the sound of an engine starting in the distance, Charles abandoned the idea. Instead, he sprinted up to reach the photographer.

Fortunately! Through the open door, he could just see the picture maker taking the last steps to the car.

„Mr. Fellowes! Wait a minute! You've forgotten your book!", shouted the butler at a barely acceptable volume.

The photographer looked over his shoulder and was surprised. He wasn't usually so careless with his belongings.

_C&E_

When the photographer's car was no longer visible, Charles walked into his office with an extremely satisfied smile and a relaxed demeanour. He would wait here for Elsie to appear. What a great and exciting afternoon! However, the familiar feeling towards the photographer still remained unresolved.

On his desk, he noticed the envelopes from the afternoon's post again. Humming, he pushed the envelopes apart and scrutinised the addressees standing up. Among all the letters, there were two that piqued his interest. One was for himself. And the other was for his wife. - From Lytham St. Anne.

My dears!
I need your help for a moment. Do you think the story is over? (Of course there are two or three more chapters in my mind to finish it.)
Or should Elsie and Charles have a few more adventures? I have enough ideas, that's not the problem. I just don't want the story to seem disharmonious and ridiculous (if it wasn't already that far :-D) . I'm very grateful for your opinion. You are also welcome to send me a private message.

I apologise for any spelling and expression errors, I have a lot on my plate.

I hope you are all doing well.
Take good care of yourselves and thank you for reading.